Her Master
by vulgarite succulent
Summary: Zangya reflects on the life she leads under Bojack's reign. Zangya/Bojack.


**Title**: HER MASTER  
**Lemon-Kissed**: I can be vulgar at times you've been warned.  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Dragon Ball Z  
**Warning**: Implications of sex, but don't worry it's all rated T goodness.

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Master. One who is superior. One who controls. Zangya grimaced. She damned that word to its very existence. Her hatred whipping savagely whenever such blasphemy seeped from her lips. She was no inferior. She was not one to be controlled. But here she lie. Spread wide on her back like some common streetwalker. Pinned beneath the blue behemoth. His disheveled orange mane shielded her vision, blinding her from the world.

Possessing her.

A bitter taste crawled up her throat as she fought back the indecorous obscenities dancing on her tongue. Possess was by far an understatement. Bojack owned her.

Even now in his slumber his alcohol inundated breath filtered into her nose; latching around her throat, sinking mushily into her veins. It drowned her senses under its enthrallment. The intoxication playing greatly in shortening their usual hours of 'pleasure', much to her relief. Unfortunately once he finished, he hardly allowed her a moment's breath before collapsing atop her much smaller frame. The bastard too crass, uncaringly remained coerced between her teal thighs; purposefully done she'd construed, fidgeting uncomfortably beneath the lethal beast.

If not for her extensive battles, honing all the skills she'd acquired over the years she was sure her body wouldn't be able to withstand his mass weight crushing down on her. Tediously she'd somehow managed to wedge her hands between the captive of his wide chest. Straining she raked bluish-green fingers through fiery bundles of hair effortlessly tossing it aside.

Graciously she inhaled bounds of unfiltered oxygen into her system. Finally, she felt some sort of empowerment. Regained confidence that she wasn't a total screw up, used as nothing more than Bojack's 'plaything' when the mood struck.

Crazed thoughts of her life before him threatened to resurface, but she abrasively slashed away such inane reminiscences. That life was dead and wasn't coming back. She no longer decided what to do, and where to go. She was told. She no longer bore options of dining with long forgotten acquaintances. Her only comrades being Kugo, Bido, Bujin and …. him. The Galaxy Soldiers. A mercenary platoon where she was the lone female. They were hated by many and feared by all. Her beauty stunned those she came across, rumors of her sweltering waterfall tresses and sea-like skin were greatly understated by those lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her. She was not blind to the lustful stares she received when they traveled, herds of starving men who haven't seen a woman in years barely contained their hunger for her. They would only sober up when _he_ came into view.

She hissed, violently hacking away any tears that dared seep its salted annoyance into her vision. Crying was for weaklings and she'd sooner be banished to the deepest hells of Ocean-sei before she showed any weakness. Especially to this bastard. Spilling her tears on his behalf, that was rich, no she'd much rather splatter his blood. Slit his throat and bath in the thick, purple goodness. Reveling the feel of such a sweetly jubilant reward to herself.

A sudden twitch above her abruptly pulled her from her self pitying low. The realization of her reality crashed down, slitting minute cuts into her placid skin. The oddly glee spark in her blue eyes died as she froze at the feel of the restless beast on top of her. Several inaudible cusses jumbled past his lips, but other than that he didn't budge.

And just when she began to slip back into her earlier abyss one of his burly hands touched her. It roughly scraped down her flawless blue palette, leaving reddening streaks in its wake. His menacing arm encumbered heavily, sprawled across her front touching wherever he pleased. She cringed when he mercilessly drove forward. His shaft having aimlessly slid out in his sleep now sunk deeply into her velvety oasis. His nails ground hollow moons into her hip and she feared he'd awakened, forcing her to endure another torturous round of sex with the drunken pirate. But reassured waves washed over her when he stilled once again; her vision recaptured the shaggy locks of orange as his scarred mug dug into his pillow.

One would take their position suited for that of lovers, painted tenderly in a loving embrace. That was far from the truth. Their 'embrace' was purely about dominance. Nothing more, nothing less. And as much as she'd protest, scratch, claw against him it would all be in vain. Armies consisting of the universe's strongest men fell victim to Bojack with the single flick of the wrist. Why would she prevail?

Why did she think her feeble talons were enough to deter him? Why did she resist the inevitable? Why? Because it gave her life, a sense that he didn't have total control of her. At least that's what she tried to tattoo in the core of her essence. For he knew just as well as she that Bojack could do whatever he pleased to her.

He made her bend in angles she shouldn't. Jump to his will at any given second. And ultimately (much to her dismay) twist her body effortlessly into a serenity of quivering ecstasy.

Her body- not her. Her body defied her intellect on more than one occasion. While she berated "no's" on deaf ears her body drenched shamelessly at his touch, his full lips callously branded her body setting off miniature rockets exploding to her core. That is what repulsed her the most. The fact that her own body yearned for the feel of his hard form pressed against her soft one was inexcusable. Her body betrayed her.

But it wasn't just her body. Her mind did as well. How long had she been laying here thinking about that monster? Trying to justify a fathomable response spun her wits to no end, and she wanted to scream. Scream until her voice gave out. Until her lungs collapsed and she awoke in a daze from this hellish entrapment.

Despite the amount of screaming she would strain her voice with, she knew it would be a wasted.

She could scream for hours on end, but then chips would simply fall into place and she'd transpire where she lay now. Trapped beneath the universe's most deadly being. Safe from any imposing threats, but jaded behind the impassive wall of flesh above her. Imprisoned. Fate already drawing her decided path of lies, deaths, and misery.

Lies of proclaiming her faithful pledge to a leviathan.

Deaths she'd been the eager contributor to at the request of said leviathan.

Misery…miserable for the life she lived.

Ruled under a gypsy-pirate. Zangya swallowed the pill a long time age that was her destiny. And she accepted that Bojack was her everything. Her body. Her mind.

Her master.

_~fin_

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**A/N: **Zangya/Bojack you don't see that everyday…or ever. I was actually shocked when I didn't find **any** Bojack/Zangya fics. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this. Review s'il vous plaît.


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